


Continental Breakfast Shit with Ransom & Holster

by McBangle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Breakfast, Gen, Road Trips, Team Bonding, Year 1 (Check Please!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McBangle/pseuds/McBangle
Summary: Bitty's first overnight roadie was a mix of exhilarating, terrifying and confusing. He still wasn't sure he fit in with the SMH, particularly the large and intimidating D-men, so when Ransom and Holster invited him to join them for continental breakfast he worried they were planning a prank or to lecture him about his protein intake....In which Ransom and Holster schooled Bitty in the ways of the roadie continental breakfast, Bitty schooled Ransom and Holster in pastries, and a lasting friendship was formed.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz & Eric "Bitty" Bittle & Justin "Ransom" Oluransi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	Continental Breakfast Shit with Ransom & Holster

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time I planned to write a longer fic about Bitty bonding with various members of the SMH during Year One, but I only ever managed to finish the part about Ransom and Holster. After all this time, I've decided to finally post this rather than hold out for the larger fic I may never write. Originally posted on Tumblr for WIP Wednesday.

“Bitty! Yo, Bitty! Over here!”

“We saved a seat for you, bro!”

Bitty eyed the chair that Ransom and Holster were gesticulating at with suspicion. Why in the world would they want him to sit with them at continental breakfast? Could this be a prank of some sort? A loose chair leg that would collapse under his weight, perhaps? Maple syrup or something else stuck to the seat that would humiliate him the moment he sat in it?

Bitty’s first overnight roadie had been a mix of exhilarating, terrifying and confusing to date, and it was only the second day. He had bunked with Johnson, the team goalie, the night before. He was a pleasant enough temporary roomie, if a bit strange. Johnson had wondered over toothbrushing whether any of them ever truly sleep or if “the narrative jump cuts to the next relevant scene.” Bitty’s brain went a bit fuzzy just thinking about it.

“Dude, is that all you’re eating?” Holster clucked his tongue at the two plates and mug of coffee that Bitty was balancing in his arms.

“You’re going to need, like, three more plates, minimum,” Ransom agreed. “And at least one plate of nothing but bacon.” He gestured to the plates overflowing with food covering most of their table.

Bitty sighed as he set down his food and coffee. The chair looked clean and stable enough for a hotel breakfast buffet. He perched gingerly on it, ready to leap up at a moment’s notice if something untoward were to happen. _“Please_ don’t tell me I need to eat more protein.”

Miraculously, Bitty’s chair appeared to be perfectly normal, if a bit saggy in the middle. He scooched the chair closer to the table, wincing at the screech it made as it scraped against the floor.

“Uh, no…” Ransom glanced quizzically at Holster, who shrugged in response. “I just meant the bacon’s ‘swawesome here. You definitely need to try it.”

“And the cinnamon buns,” Holster added around a mouthful of said buns.

“And the raspberry Danish.” Ransom nodded enthusiastically, a huge grin spreading across his face.

“But not the cheese Danish.” Holster shook his head ruefully.

Ransom pulled a face. “Remember the time we tried the cheese Danish here?” he asked Holster.

“Blerg. It was cold and rubbery in the middle. Do _not_ repeat our mistakes.” Holster solemnly inclined his head toward Bitty.

Bitty looked back and forth from one D-man to the other throughout the exchange. “You won’t tell Jack if I go off the diet plan?”

“What?” Holster erupted in guffaws. “You seriously think we would tattle on you to Captain Ice Prince?”

Ransom smiled sympathetically. “Dude. The diet plan is, like, a suggestion.”

“Not according to Jack,” Bitty protested.

Holster rolled his eyes. “Captain Killjoy,” he muttered.

Ransom backhanded a light smack against Holster’s shoulder. “Don’t forget when we were frogs. Jack can be intimidating.”

“I was never intimidated by Jack Zimm–” Holster began. He cut himself short at the sight of Ransom’s icy glare, throwing his arms up in a good imitation of the shruggie.

“Dude.” Ransom speared a sausage with his fork and pointed it at Bitty. “We’re not going to be college athletes forever. Enjoy the perks while we get them. And right now, that includes free all-you-can-eat continental breakfast. So go back to that buffet, fill up your plates with as much food as you want, and get thirds if you want thirds. Get fourths, even. We’re not telling anyone.”

“Ooh!” Holster held out an empty plate practically coated with maple syrup to Bitty. “Get me more Belgian waffles.”

“Um, okay.” Bitty reached for the plate.

“Dude!” Ransom slapped Holster upside the head. “Get your own waffles.” He rolled his eyes affectionately at Bitty. “Don’t worry about him.”

They spent the rest of breakfast feasting together and chatting about Samwell gossip. The bacon was as delicious as promised and the omelets were passable, but the pastries were atrocious. Bitty bragged that he could bake circles around whoever came up with the recipe for the obviously store-bought and heat lamp-warmed Danish. (Was it a brag when it was demonstrably true?) To his great pleasure, Ransom and Holster begged him to come to the hockey Haus that weekend and show them what real Danish tasted like.

When Bitty finally dragged himself away from the continental breakfast, he was full and much happier than he’d been when he’d entered it. They’d all agreed that Bitty would eat with Ransom and Holster on roadies from here on out. They would advise Bitty of the best selections at each familiar stop, and he would regale them with stories about how much better his own versions of each item would be.

Strangely enough, Bitty had found that he’d enjoyed speaking with them about just about everything. Holster’s dating woes. Ransom’s sisters. The trip they’d taken to Niagara Falls last summer. Ransom and Holster had an effortless patter with each other that set him at ease and drew him in. Before he’d known it, he’d found himself chatting away about his mother, the state of the kitchen in his dorm, and even his love of Beyoncé. There still was a big part of himself that he wasn’t willing to share with them, but he rose from the table much more comfortable with the SMH D-men than he would have thought possible.

As he glanced down at the plates he had left behind on their table, Bitty realized to his surprise that aside from coffee and a few tentative bites of cinnamon buns and Danish, his breakfast had consisted almost entirely of protein. He wondered vaguely whether Jack had deliberately chosen the hotel with the worst breakfast pastries in order to force Bitty to eat more protein, but no. The idea was absurd. His captain had more important things to think about than what Eric Bittle ate for breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Have I spent a lot of time eating hotel continental breakfasts? Yes, yes I have.


End file.
